


looking for astronauts

by orphan_account



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Captain America: Civil War (Movie) Spoilers, Gen, Getting Together, M/M, Post-Captain America: Civil War (Movie), in Wakanda
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-15
Updated: 2016-05-15
Packaged: 2018-06-08 14:19:40
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,317
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6858457
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's not even five minutes after Tony's left when Barton leans against the bars on his windows and says, "So, Wilson, when are you gonna tell Cap about your huge crush on him?"</p>
            </blockquote>





	looking for astronauts

**Author's Note:**

> Title from the same song by the National.
> 
> Currently unbeta'd.

It's not even five minutes after Tony's left when Barton leans against the bars on his windows and says, "So, Wilson, when are you gonna tell Cap about your huge crush on him?"

If Sam were drinking something, he would've spat it out and thrown the glass at him. "Man, shut up," he says instead, waving his hand dismissively.

Scott practically jumps out of his bed and rushes to his window. "Wow, wait, hang on, you and Captain America are like - together-together?"

"Together-together? Who says that anymore?" Sam rolls his eyes. It's obvious he's deflecting and Barton, obviously used to the tactic from his kids, just crosses his arms and gives Sam a look.

"No, they're not together yet," he tells Scott. "But he wants them to be."

"Now I never said that," Sam tries to retort but to no avail.

Scott gives him a pitiful look. "Don't worry, man, when we get out of here, we'll help you get your man."

Sam lets out a scoff. "More like 'if' - this place is like a fortress." He paces around in his cell, rubbing his hands together and letting out a sigh. There's no way they'd get out of this. Maybe if he managed to get Wanda out of her cell, but even then, it would just be the four of them against a shit-ton of special agents and then who knows where they'll be stored next.

"If anyone can get us out of here, it is Captain Rogers," Wanda says. She's still sitting dejectedly in the bottom of her cell, staring quietly into nowhere until her gaze focuses on Sam, the barest hint of a smile on her face. "He's a worthy person to love, Sam."

"Ugh, not you too," Sam groans, half theatrics, half authentic despair, and she smiles fully for a brief moment.

"Honestly, I don't know what you're looking at," he says, turning back to Barton. "Me and Steve are just -”

"Some you're on a first-name basis, huh?" Barton smirks.

"Oh, come on!" Sam huffs. "Steve is on a first name basis with everyone!"

"Not everyone," Scott chimes in, and Barton gestures to him with a satisfied smug.

Sam wants to slam his head against the bars, and he nearly does, when one of the guards walks in and tells them to shut up.

"Sorry," Barton raises his hands. "But he's got a crush on the Cap."

"Oh my god, Barton," Sam covers his face with his hands. Just his luck that the one guy with a gimmick he can get behind turns out to be annoying as fuck.

The guard raises a brow and gives Sam a sympathetic look. Later, when they're given lunch, he gives him a cupcake with frosting shaped like Steve's shield. Sam would've been more upset if it weren't so delicious.

They spend the rest of the time in silence, left to their own thoughts. Sam wonders how he's gonna apologize to Rhodey when he sees him.  _If_ he sees him. Stark has been their only visitor so far, though he wanted to know exactly what their interrogators had wanted to know. Sam had told Ross straight up to fuck off.

"It's not like I can get any _more_ in trouble, so I might as well say something useful," he'd told the rest of the gang, earning a laugh from Barton and a quiet chuckle from Wanda.

"They didn't even ask me anything," Scott had complained.

"That's because you don't know anything," Barton had replied.

They probably won't be able to get any visitors, Sam muses. His mom probably saw the whole thing on TV. Same with Barton's family. He wonders if they'll ever get to see anyone ever again.

"Hey, guys?" Scott asks, lying in bed. "What do we do if we have to use the bathroom?"

"You know," Sam says after a moment, "I have no idea."

* * *

He doesn't know how long they've been trapped when, like an avenging angel, Steve Rogers walks in and Sam feels like he's flying with his feet on the ground. Though, granted, that could be the water somewhere beneath them.

"Hey, Sam," he says with a smile.

"Hey," Sam smiles back.

For a few moments, it's just the two of them, grinning at each other like a pair of idiots until Barton lets out a loud fake cough.

"It's nice to see you too, Cap," he inclines his head. "Now are you gonna just stand there, or...?"

"Right," he gives a firm nod and pulls out the keys, unlocking each of the cells one by one. "Nat and T'Challa are getting your stuff."

"T'Challa? You mean the guy that tried killing Bucky?" Barton asks. "You're _friends_ with that guy now?"

"It's a long story," Steve says. He pulls Wanda out of her restraints and helps her to her feet before pulling her along heading out.

Something feels off to Sam, and it takes him a while to realize it. "Steve, where's your shield?"

Steve tightens his jaw, almost imperceptibly, but Sam's been around long enough to notice it. "It's a long story, I'll explain later."

They climb some more stairs, Wanda waving away some agents to clear their path, and finally, _blessedly,_ they make it out into the open where Natasha and T'Challa, decked out in his personal bulletproof gear, are already hanging by the jet.

"Good to see they didn't break you guys," Natasha hums at them.

"Takes more than that to ruin our dynamic duo," Barton says. He wraps an arm around Sam's shoulder and Sam pushes it off with a huff. "No, you haven't earned touching privileges back yet."

Natasha gives him a light smirk and pulls the two of them on board.

"Hey, weren't we fighting both of you like, a couple of hours ago?" Scott asks.

"You wanna stay here instead?" Natasha replies. Scott shakes his head and climbs on, strapping himself in tightly.

Sam takes a seat beside Wanda and looks outside as they lift-off, leaving their prison behind.

"You okay?" he asks her.

She nods, moving her hand around and watching the red sparks swirl. "It was... degrading, being trapped like that."

"Yeah, I feel you," he nods. He leans back in his seat with a sigh.

"I don't think Vision is going to forgive me," she says after a moment. "What I did was..." she trails off quietly, staring at her hands again.

"He'll understand," Sam says. "Don't worry about it." He gives her an awkward pat on the shoulder and she nods quietly.

"So where are we going?" Scott asks.

"Wakanda," Steve replies, hands on the controls of the jet beside T'Challa. "They don't have an extradition treaty with the US."

"Smart," Natasha says with a slight smirk. T'Challa doesn't respond but Sam thinks he sees a smile there too.

"What're we gonna do there?" Barton asks. "Chill by the beach, drink some fruity juices, and just hang around until something happens?"

"We're going to be there until we have a plan."

"Great. How long will that take?" There's a pointed silence and Barton slumps back, wiping his face with his hands. "I guess that's  _not_ a good kind of silence."

"We'll figure it out," Natasha says. She leans over and squeezes his leg in a comforting gesture. "We have protection on Laura and the kids. They’ll be safe, I promise.”

Barton looks only a little more relaxed but not enough to be comfortable, tension hanging heavily in his shoulders.

“You’ll be able to talk to them when we land. All of you,” she adds, looking at Scott and Sam.

Sam nods an acknowledgement and leans back in his seat. Wanda, having fallen asleep at some point in the last couple of minutes, leans against him and rests her head on his shoulder. He closes his eyes and drifts off.

* * *

His mom's phone goes straight to voicemail, and Sam leaves a kind of cryptic message about how he's safe and how he loves her before handing the phone back to Natasha as they climb out of the plane and into cars.

"Great, more sitting," Barton says sarcastically. Natasha taps the back of his head playfully and pushes him inside their car while Wanda and Sam get into a different one.

"My legs feel like jelly," Wanda says, still a little groggy from sleep.

"Jetlag," Sam agrees. He thinks about falling asleep again, already barely conscious, when Steve climbs in with them and all of a sudden he's wide awake and ready for whatever it is they're gonna even doing.

"That was a long plane ride," Steve says with a slight smile. "You two okay?"

Wanda nods and leans against the windowsill, staring outside. Sam's still looking at Steve - there's something off about him, something that's wrong.

"Where's that bastard, Barnes?" Sam asks instead, trying to lighten the mood. "Have a couple of things I'd like to say to him."

Steve looks away and Sam realizes that's what's wrong. He frowns and shifts in his seat. "Steve," he says carefully, not sure of the right words.

"He's frozen again," Steve finally says. He looks mostly in his lap as he talks, hands fidgeting. "It was his decision. He didn't want to be out and around people with HYDRA still in his brain, so T'Challa agreed to let him stay for as long as he needs. Until we can get him some help."

There's a heavy silence in the car, only the outside noises leaking in when Wanda clears her throat. "What happened to your shield?"

At first, Sam doesn't think Steve is going to say anything, but Steve takes a deep breath and he tells them what happened at the HYDRA base, with Zemo and Tony and Bucky, and when he's done and quietly staring at his hands, nothing left in him to say, Sam leans over and puts a hand on his shoulder and f gives it a tight squeeze.

Steve looks up at him quietly, but he leans into the touch and Sam feels something warm in the center of his chest.

* * *

T'Challa's home is huge - which makes sense to Sam because he's the leader of a supremely technologically advanced country, as explained by Nat - and they're led into their respective rooms by one of the many bodyguards.

"Dinner will be in the main dining hall in two hours," the woman says, opening the room door for Sam.

Sam raises a brow. "There's more than one?"

She smirks a little at him and it reminds him a lot of Leila. "If you require any assistance, please let us know." She closes the door and Sam's prepared to plop down on the bed and crash when he sees his wings folded neatly in a corner and there’s no way he can resist going out for a little flight to clear his head.

He picks them up opens the door to the balcony (he has a fucking  _balcony_ ), ready to strap them on and get to work when all of a sudden - 

"You too, huh?" Barton asks. He's standing on the balcony beside him, holding up his bow and arrows.

"Seriously?" Sam sighs.

Barton shrugs. “It’s not just me,” he says, stepping back to reveal the balcony beside him (how many fucking balconies does this place have) where Scott is waving frantically.

“You’ve _got_ to be kidding me,” Sam deadpans.

“Looks like Team ‘Get Cap and Sam Together So Sam Can Stop Pining’ can have their first official meeting,” Barton grins at him.

Sam rolls his eyes. “I am _not_ pining, okay?” he huffs.

“I don’t know man,” Scott says. “When you were with the Captain earlier, you looked at him like, I dunno, one of those clichés in a romance novel. Like he hung up the sun or whatever.”

Barton nods in agreement, and Sam wonders what he’s ever done to deserve treatment like this. “Look,” he says, “pining is what high schoolers do when their crush is dating someone else and they wanna write some angsty poetry about it, okay? And that is _not_ what I’m doing.”

“It kind of looks like pining from here,” Barton smirks.

Sam doesn’t know how to respond, so he glares and heads back into his room, ignoring the sounds of scheming and plotting behind him. He’s not pining, though – yeah, sure, he might maybe possibly have a bit of a crush on Steve, but he can be a grown man about it. Besides, Steve certainly hasn’t shown any interest in him, so it’s not like anything can happen.

And he sure as hell doesn’t look at Steve like he hangs up the sky or whatever – who’d think that? Well, sure, Steve is strong and strapping and has a presence like he _could_ do that, but Sam doesn’t look at him like that. And if he did, he probably wouldn’t be the only one.

And that’s no evidence for pining.

There’s a knock on his door. Sam opens it and says, rather loudly, “Barton, I swear to god, if you say I’m pining again –“

“I never said you were,” Natasha replies evenly.

“Oh,” Sam says. He steps aside as she walks in.

“You and Clint in some kind of argument?” she asks.

Sam shrugs. “He’s just… being stupid.”

“That sounds like Clint,” Natasha hums as she seats herself on the bed. “So, Steve and T’Challa are going to try and come up with an alternative to the Accords.”

“Yeah?” Sam says. “What changed his mind about oversight?”

“I don’t know,” she replies, “but I support it. I wasn’t siding with Tony just to be a double agent – there’s plenty of good associated with having something like that.”

“I know, I know. It’s just…” he huffs out a breath. “SHIELD was supposed to be something like handlers for superheroes, and then it turned out that the whole organization had been infiltrated by HYDRA. Who’s to say it won’t happen again?”

“I don’t know,” she says. There’s a beat of silence, and then she looks up at him with a glint in her eyes. “You know, I actually visited Clint before I came in here.”

Sam shakes his head. “You have got to be kidding me.”

She gives him a grin. “Team Hook Sam Up with Cap is making great headway.”

“Oh, come _on_ ,” he groans. “I thought we were on the same team here.”

“We are,” Natasha assures him. “We’re gonna get jackets, too, even for you.”

“That’s it, get off my bed,” Sam gestures for her to leave and she does, still a self-satisfied expression on her face.

“I’ll see you at dinner,” she says as she heads out the door.

“Like hell you will,” Sam replies. He’s about to lie down on his bed when Natasha comes back inside.

“Do you know who that other guy with Clint is?” she asks.

“Honestly,” Sam sighs, “I probably know him the best out of all of us and I _still_ don’t really know who he is.”

* * *

Dinner ends up being more of a casual affair than what Sam previously expected – they end up moving to one of the main sitting areas and lounge around, picking off the remains of food from their plates.

Sam's too busy laughing with Wanda at how Barton and Scott can't handle the spices in their rice to notice Steve take a seat beside him, watching the scene unfold.

"Come on, it's not even that spicy," Sam says as Barton drains his third glass of water.

Barton gives him a pitiful glare. "Give me a break, I don't eat like this often. Or ever." He watches Wanda eat her second helping and lets out a groan.

"It's good food, isn't it?" Steve asks him.

Sam chuckles softly and nods. "Yeah," he says, leaning back into his seat. "Wanda's having a good time, too."

Steve hesitates and then leans forward, voice lowering as he asks, "How was she, in there?"

"She wasn't doing much worse than the rest of us," Sam replies. "She didn't like being tied up like that, but we all made the best of it."

"That's good," Steve says quietly. He's silent for a few moments, eyes distant, and Sam wonders if he should say something comforting. He puts a hand on his back and gives him a smile, and Steve smiles back, and Sam's about to say something when T'Challa comes by and Steve stands up and goes off in a corner to talk with him.

Sam sighs, and then realizes that at some point, Scott and Barton started staring at him with wide, mischievous grins.

"Oh, fuck off," Sam huffs with no venom and walks away.

He finds a quiet corner to brood and avoid talking about his feelings when Natasha walks by and catches him staring over at Steve and T'Challa.

"You're way too obvious about it, you know?" she says.

"Yeah, well, thankfully Steve's pretty thick in that regard," he replies. He crosses his arms and quirks his lips. "How's the Committee to Hook Up with T'Challa and/or the Bodyguards?"

Natasha rolls her eyes and Sam laughs. "I need something to distract myself with too, instead of focusing on my relationship issues."

"So you admit you have issues?" she asks.

Sam tries to come up with a witty comeback and mumbles something vaguely instead, frowning as Natasha smirks.

"Oh, I wanted to ask you," she says suddenly. "Could you go out with Wanda tomorrow? I told her I would, but they need me to help with their accords."

"All right, sure," Sam says. He spots Wanda, still sitting with Scott and Barton, levitating the remaining food from their plates and moving it to hers. "What were you going out for?"

"Nothing in specific," she says. "Just go around with her, show her some of the sights. I just don't think she should be alone for a while, since what happened in Lagos."

"She still feels guilty about that?" Sam asks, though it's obvious. Of course she is - she probably thinks she's the reason they're dead, when really, you could pass the blame back and forth continuously and go nowhere with it.

"Just make sure she's distracted enough to have a good time," Natasha says.

"Okay," Sam says. He hopes he can do a good job at it.

* * *

They leave early the next morning, the two of them and the same bodyguard, Nakia, who had showed Sam to his room, hitting the sights.

It's much different than what Sam's used to – the buildings are different, the atmosphere is different, even the technology is different, far more advanced than what he’s used to. He would say it reminds him of living with Tony, except he doesn’t really like thinking about Tony after what happened.

Wanda looks considerably more cheerful now that she’s allowed to go out and not be shut in her room for however long they’re gonna be here, walking up with Florence and asking all sorts of questions. She doesn’t seem to mind Wanda’s curiosity and Sam finds it kind of cute, in an abstract way, watching Wanda listen with rapt attention as to why the technology here was different from everywhere else.

Sam’s only question is when they’re gonna stop for lunch.

“That was a very interesting experience,” Wanda says when they get back, sipping a fruity drink that Nakia had gotten for them from a fancy looking store selling juices.

"Yeah, it was fun," Sam says. "We should definitely go out and visit again."

Wanda nods. She's silent for a second, tracing the beads of water along the sides of the cup before saying quietly, "I wonder if Vision would be able to forgive me, after how much I have hurt him."

"I'm sure he will," Sam replies, trying to sound comforting. "He's not the type of guy to hold grudges. I'm not even sure if he _can_ hold a grudge.”

“I hope so,” she says quietly.

There’s an awkward moment in which Sam tries rubbing Wanda’s arm in a way he hopes is coming off as comforting and not creepy, when T’Challa spots them and walks over. Sam thinks this is the first time he’s been happy to see him.

“I see you two have been making full use of the services of the Dora Milaje by asking them to get you juice,” he says.

“Is that a dig? I feel like that’s a dig,” Sam takes a quick sip of his drink and crosses his arms. “For someone who loves cats, I haven’t seen a single one so far. Pretty disappointing.”

T’Challa raises a brow. “Is that so? Would you like to see one?”

Sam tries to come up with a catchy retort, and almost has one too, when Wanda nods and the next thing he knows, he’s out of breath and panting after having hiked up some mountain to see a huge ass monument of a panther.

“Couldn’t we have seen this from down there someplace?” Sam asks in between breaths.

“Yes,” T’Challa says. Sam would punch the smirk off his face if he weren’t so tired.

Wanda looks at him with pity. “Here,” she hands him her drink. “This will help you regain your strength.”

Sam nods, taking a small sip. “How come you’re not tired?”

She shrugs, and, not for the first time, Sam wishes he didn’t have super powered friends that made him feel athletically incompetent.

He hears someone jogging up behind him and recognizes who it is, even before Steve walks up beside him and says, grin evident in his voice, “On your left.”

Sam rolls his eyes. “Ha ha, you’re hilarious,” he punches Steve in the arm weakly and takes another sip. “What’re you doing up here?”

“Was out for a jog, saw you three up here and thought I’d take a look.” He gestures to Sam’s drink. “What’re you drinking? Something local?”

“Yeah, some juice,” Sam says. He doesn’t even think about it, just hands Steve the cup and lets him practically drain it in one chug.

“It’s good,” Steve hums. He and Wanda move ahead to get a closer look at the panther, while T’Challa watches Sam with a knowing look that takes him about one second to decipher.

“You’re with Barton and the rest, aren’t you?” he glares accusatorily. When T’Challa’s smirk only widens, he shakes his head with a huff. “You know, I was starting to like you too. I was gonna share with you pictures of my mom’s cat and funny YouTube videos of cats and Nat’s favorite color and some more funny cat pictures my mom sent me, but _no_ , not anymore.”

“You are being overly dramatic,” T’Challa says coolly. “We are only trying to help you two. But both of you are too oblivious to see what is right in front of you.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Sam asks. He’s managed to stop sounding like he’s out of breath and tries for a more firm tone of voice.

“It means that Sharon Carter is coming in tomorrow,” he says, giving Sam a significant look, “but if you’re not interested in the Captain, this news shouldn’t bother you.”

Sam looks at him for a good minute. “Blue,” he says finally. “People think it’s red, but it’s actually blue. Like the ocean.”

“I see,” T’Challa says quietly, and while they don’t say anything after, Sam thinks they might actually be something like friends now.

* * *

He doesn’t see Sharon until mid-afternoon the next day. Not that he’s avoiding her or anything. It’s just sheer coincidence that he’s never in the same room as her or Steve or literally anyone else – he’s just been chilling in his room, avoiding everyone so no one thinks he’s avoiding anyone in particular.

He finally ventures out around lunchtime, unable to stand it any longer, and bumps right into Sharon herself.

“Oh, hey, Sam,” she smiles.

“Uh – hey,” he says. “Sorry about, you know…”

“It’s fine,” she waves her hand dismissively. “I’m getting something to eat. Wanna come with?”

He thinks about saying no, but at that moment his stomach, of course, chooses to growl loudly and so he goes instead with a quiet mumble and follows her down to the main dining hall, sitting down at one of the tables and grabbing a fruit from the centerpiece.

“How have you been doing?” she asks, biting into a delicious-looking apple. “I’m sure the Raft wasn’t comfortable.”

“No, not at all,” he says. “But it’s great here, really. I’ve been catching up on Netflix since I’ve got here. Well, mostly just today.”

“I’m sure fighting crime cuts into TV time,” she replies and Sam nods.

“So, what’re you here for?” he asks.

“Officially, I’m not even here,” she admits. “I’m actually in Cape Town for a long overdue vacation. Unofficially, though, I’m here to help with whatever you guys are up to.”

“That’s great,” Sam says. “We could use all the help we can get.” _Don’t bring up Steve. Don’t bring up Steve. Don’t fucking bring up –_ “So, are you gonna get with Steve now?”

Sharon blinks, before letting out a laugh. She shakes her head and finishes her apple. “No, of course not.”

“What?” Sam asks. “But – the kiss – you two kissed!”

“Sam, you look at Steve like he hangs up the freaking sun, so don’t tell me you wouldn’t jump at the chance to get even a peck on the check from him,” Sharon snaps at him.

“You make an excellent point,” Sam concedes, spirits considerably lightened for reasons that are blatantly obvious but he’s choosing to ignore. He can’t even bring himself to get upset with her for being a part of everyone else’s conspiracy of trying to get him and Steve to hook up.

“Besides,” she continues, “there are plenty of other attractive people here. Like, have you _seen_ Wanda?”

“Hey, don’t you dare throw lustful looks at my sweet and innocent summer child, okay?” he gestures a banana threateningly at her, and she rolls her eyes.

“Uh-huh, sure,” she pushes the banana away and grabs another apple.

“Besides,” he adds, “I think she and Vision have a thing for each other.”

Sharon shakes her head with a sigh. “All the good ones are taken, aren’t they, by mysterious beings of unknown origins, huh?”

“Either that or anyone who’s ever gotten hurt ever,” Sam says. Sharon lets out a loud laugh and Sam thinks he could make this friendship work.

* * *

He realizes, around dinner, that he hasn’t seen Steve, even after his impromptu lunch with Sharon let him stay out of his room for the rest of the day.

“You want to ask where he is, don’t you?” Natasha says while they sit around, watching yet another display of Barton and Scott succumbing to the spices in the dishes.

“No,” Sam responds automatically.

“We know where he is,” she says. “You can just ask.”

“I’m fine not knowing where Steve is all the time,” he says.

Natasha gives him a look and Sam feels his resolve begin to crumble until, finally, he sighs.

“Okay, where is he?”

“Top floor,” T’Challa says, appearing out of seemingly nowhere and causing Sam to nearly jump out of his skin. “You should leave before the other two make a spectacle out of your decision to admit your feelings.”

“Go get your man, Wilson,” Natasha nudges him in the arm, and Sam can’t keep the fond smile off his face as he heads over to the elevators.

The lights are all dimmed, most of the illumination coming from the moonlight outside. Sam spots Steve easily and walks up beside him as he stares out the window.

“Steve? The, uh, food’s ready downstairs,” Sam says.

“Really?” Steve looks around and lets out a slight chuckle. “Wow, I didn’t even realize – it’s gotten pretty late.”

Sam nods, crossing his arms and leaning against the windowpane. “You, uh – are you doing all right?”

“Yeah, of course,” Steve says. “It’s just… been pretty exhausting, dealing with this whole Accords situation.”

“I’ll bet. What made you change your mind?”

Steve hesitates for a moment and turns his back to the window. At first, Sam has no idea what he’s looking at, until he follows his gaze and sees an empty capsule, sort of, big enough to hold an entire person.

“They moved Bucky to a safer location,” Steve explains. “He – he couldn’t trust himself, sometimes, always had to be aware and make sure no one was going to come in and turn him into – into the Soldier again.” He lets out a heavy breath and shakes his head. “So I just thought that it might be safer if we had someone making sure we were doing the right thing, in case we couldn’t tell ourselves.”

“That’s not a bad idea,” Sam says quietly. He looks at the empty container and wonders what Bucky must be thinking. If he can even think. If he’s okay or not. “He’ll be fine.”

“I hope so,” Steve says quietly. He turns to Sam with a weary expression Sam never noticed before, as though the weight of all his decisions was finally crashing down. “If… If you had to do it all over again, Sam, would you still pick this?”

“Yes,” Sam says, before he can even think. “I’d still pick this.”

“You think it was worth it, all this effort, this destruction, just to save my friend?”

"Yeah," Sam nods. "And everyone else downstairs would agree, because they know that if it was them, you'd go to the ends of the earth to save them too. So yeah, maybe you screwed the Accords the first time because it led to the potential death of your friend. But now you've learned from your mistakes and you're gonna try and make it better, right? So yeah, we'll stick with you. And I'm sure the guys on the other side - Tony, Rhodey, Vision - they'd support you too, if they'd known the full story."

"Thanks, Sam," Steve says after a while. There still looks like something's weighing down on him, something he should probably talk about, but Sam thinks they made enough headway tonight, so he nudges his arm and says, "You're missing out on Barton and Scott making fools of themselves."

Steve lets out a chuckle despite himself and there's something about it that makes Sam's chest feel warm and he thinks maybe now's the time to say something but then Steve - Steve fucking Rogers leans forward and gently cups Sam's jaw and kisses him.

They pull apart after a second, all too short for Sam’s liking, but really, he can’t be complaining because he just got kissed by _Steve fucking Rogers_ , so –

“You – how did you…” Sam tries to get his brain working again and Steve lets out a full laugh.

“Wanda told me I should make my move. I, uh, wanted to do it for a while now but I just never thought you’d be interested.”

Sam scoffs. “Are you kidding? Barton and the rest started this stupid club trying to get me to admit my feelings for you!”

Steve’s brow furrows, frowning lightly. “But – they did the exact same thing for me. Something about making jackets and giving me looks whenever I was alone with you.”

“Oh my god,” Sam says. “Our so-called ‘ _friends_ ’ just set us up.”

Steve laughs again, shaking his head. “Should we go upstairs and confront them about it?”

“Absolutely,” Sam says, taking his arm and pulling him over to the elevator. On their way there, Sam briefly reconsiders calling everyone out on their antics because they did end up helping, but then Steve says, “T’Challa and Nat told me I should ‘go and get my bird’ more than once,” and all of Sam’s reservations are thrown out the window.

“Oh _hell_ no,” he says, and Steve laughs again, shooting him a smile.

 _This_ _is gonna be great_ , he thinks and smiles back.


End file.
